


Returning to Harmony

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/M, challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 11:01:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Blair have some issues to work out, and somehow Jim stalking Blair turns out to be a good thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Returning to Harmony

## Returning to Harmony

#### by krossero

Author's website: <http://krossero-fic.livejournal.com>  
  
This was my Exchange story for TS Secret Santa 2009. Thanks go to Elizabeth for the beta! You were so very helpful, as always. :)  
  
This story is a sequel to: 

* * *

Returning to Harmony 

"Ah-CHOO!" 

Crap. That was the fifth time, at least, that Jim had sneezed since Blair had lit this new incense. Apparently, something in it irritated Jim's poor ickle nosie more than usual. Blair sighed irritably; he'd really liked this scent. 

He rose from the lotus position on his bed, and padded over to the dresser where the incense rested, a small continuous line of gray twisting up from it. Grabbing the end, Blair stubbed it out on the wooden holder, and sighed again. 

Lately, his meditation sessions hadn't been doing him much good--he really had too much going on in his head these days to be helped much by simple meditation; every time he tried to clear his head, the same old thoughts would return. The same problem that had been gnawing at his mind relentlessly for months now. Ever since he'd graduated from the Academy, it seemed that his life was more complicated than ever. 

It wasn't actually being a cop that had Blair so unsettled, though that was weird enough in itself--it was still hard to think of himself as _not_ an academic, sometimes. No, what was really bugging him was how much his relationship with Jim had changed. 

Now that he was Jim's partner, Blair could see a definite change in Jim's attitude towards him--Jim alternated between pushing Blair away and acting as if they were closer than ever. And Blair wasn't ever sure of the cause of either--he'd always been ridiculously hopeless when it came to deciphering his best friend's feelings towards him. 

All he knew was that there were times when Jim seemed impossibly distant, and it seemed to Blair that this cool demeanor of Jim's could come at any moment--he never knew where he'd gone wrong. But even when things were good, and Jim acted as if everything were fine and dandy, it felt like Jim was holding back somehow. 

And Jim holding back was not something that Blair wanted; in fact, it was exactly the opposite of what he really desired. He wanted more than anything for Jim to open up to him completely, to trust him--even to love him a little, maybe. As if that would ever happen. 

Somehow, he'd always held out the hope that after the dissertation was done, after theirs was no longer a working relationship, that maybe he and Jim could have something together--he knew Jim was bisexual, and he'd _hoped_ that he was interested. Well, the dissertation certainly wasn't an issue anymore, but it seemed destined that Blair would never be more than Jim's working partner. 

Being Jim's partner certainly wasn't a bad thing, of course--Blair loved his job with Jim--but he just wished that the title of 'partner' could extend to more... _domestic_ situations. 

Today had been another of Jim's distant days, and thus the meditation. It wasn't as if Blair really had anything better to do, anyway; it was still odd to have his weekends free, for the most part, after years of working weekends--papers to write, papers to grade, tests to take, tests to grade. There had always been something that needed to be done. Nowadays, he usually just tried to catch up on his leisure reading, but today he didn't have the mental stamina to even try. 

He flopped back on his bed, and almost as quickly jumped back up again. What he needed was a good, brisk walk to use up some of this excess energy and clear his head; he was restless, and felt like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. 

Blair grabbed his cell from his nightstand, and walked out to the living room to put on his jacket. It was already getting downright cold, even though it was only October. 

Pausing at the door, he glanced up at Jim's room, though he couldn't actually see anything. He flirted with the idea of letting Jim know where he was going, but decided that Jim probably wouldn't care, anyway. So he left. 

* * *

Once he had settled on the park bench, hotdog in hand, Blair let his mind wander back to Jim. He didn't even know what Jim did up there in his room, when he was avoiding Blair. Invariably, when Jim decided for whatever reason that he didn't want to grace Blair with his company, he would tell Blair, "I'll be in my room, Sandburg. Just holler if something comes up." Ha. If something came up. Jim had no idea. 

But the thing was, Blair had really been looking forward to this weekend, in particular. This past week had seemed endless, and he'd been hoping to get some quality time with Jim. They might be together nearly all the time, but they hardly ever _did_ anything together. It had been a long time since they'd gone to a game, or played a game of basketball together, or even just went out for dinner. 

The fact of the matter was, Blair missed Jim. 

He missed their easy camaraderie, and even their arguments. Despite with the turbulence of their relationship before the whole dissertation mess, it had still been pretty good, because it had been genuine. Now, even when they fought it seemed a little false, and Blair had no clue why--or what to do about it. 

Maybe it was just that Jim needed more time to himself. They were together almost constantly, and Jim couldn't be expected to crave Blair's company the way he did Jim's. 

Or maybe Blair _had_ done something wrong. He couldn't think of anything, but who knew? Maybe he'd said something, maybe he was doing something to make Jim need more space...this whole damn thing was enough to give a man a complex. 

He stayed on the bench for a while, munching on the hotdog that he hadn't really been hungry enough to buy, watching the joggers and couples and families, wondering what was going on in their heads; wondering if any of them could possibly be in a situation like his. Unlikely. 

Eventually, he grew restless again, and decided to head back to the loft. There _had_ to be something to keep him occupied--maybe something decent would be on TV. 

He walked to the nearest trash can to toss the rest of the hotdog; waste that he knew it was, he still couldn't bring himself to finish it. 

When he turned, he was shocked to see the cause of his aggravation standing not too far down the path, talking into his cell phone. 

"Jim?" he asked incredulously. 

* * *

As the door closed behind Blair, Jim sighed and sat up, putting his book to the side. Another Saturday, and they weren't even speaking. He knew it was his fault, but that didn't exactly make it pleasant for him. 

Quickly, Jim put on warm clothes, grabbed a few things, and headed out the door. It would be easy for him to figure out which direction Blair had gone in, and he wasn't about to sit in the loft completely alone all day; just because he didn't think that he could handle being alone with Blair for the entire day didn't mean that he actually wanted to be alone completely. 

Opening the door to the building and going outside, he briefly shielded his eyes from the glare of sunlight, then began walking in the direction he knew Blair had gone. Blair had turned the corner already, but Jim knew he was close; not only could he smell Blair, standing here, but if he stretched out his hearing just a bit, he could _hear_ Blair, too--his soft breathing, the swish of his clothes, the gentle thud of his heartbeat. 

Jim latched onto that heartbeat, the rhythm he cherished more than his own, and began to follow. Soon, it became apparent that Blair was heading toward a nearby park, and Jim relaxed, not needing to focus so hard on following--he knew where they'd end up. 

Eventually, he was proven correct; Blair went to the same hotdog stand they used to visit all the time, and sat on the bench that Jim liked to think of as theirs. 

When he was sure that Blair was going to stay put, he found his own bench, where he was out of Blair's sight, but could still keep track of him. 

He felt a little bit ridiculous, having followed Blair just to watch him eat a hotdog, but that was exactly what their friendship had become, recently--ridiculous. 

Ever since Blair had given up his career for him, Jim had been having mixed feelings about his partner. The love he'd felt for Blair for a long time had intensified, but now it was mixed with guilt on a level that it never had been before. There was still the old, familiar guilt that told him he shouldn't have these feelings about his partner and that he should just be grateful for their relationship as it was. He knew that it was more than he deserved, considering the way he acted sometimes, and he hated that he constantly wanted more. 

But on top of that, he now had even more guilt from the whole mess with the press leak and the conference at which Blair had basically given up his whole life for Jim. And why had Blair done it? Jim had _never_ done anything like that for Blair; he wasn't worth Blair's entire career. 

For the first few weeks after Blair had taken the badge--after a relatively brief stint at the Police Academy--Jim had hardly been able to meet his eye; he'd been sure that Blair was just settling for what he could get, taking the job because it was the only option he had. A short discussion and Blair's sheer enthusiasm for the job had convinced Jim that he had been wrong on that count at least, but that still didn't help with the guilt. He wanted Blair so badly it hurt, sometimes, and he knew it wasn't fair to his best friend. Blair shouldn't have to live with someone who felt this way about him, not when he didn't return the feelings. 

Jim sighed and slumped tiredly, letting his head fall back to dangle over the edge of the bench, staring up into the slate gray sky. 

If only that damn mess with the dissertation had never happened. That had been when things had really started to go to shit. What Blair had done for him--and Jim's realization that he could have lost Blair through his own stupid stubbornness and fear--had made it so that sometimes Jim could barely look at his best friend without thinking about what it would be like if they were together, without being nearly overwhelmed by his feelings for Blair. 

Knowing that Blair would easily see the emotions that he was positive were written all over his face in those moments, Jim had started to put some distance in between them. He'd figured that not only would it prevent Blair's discovery of his feelings, but it might also make it hurt less if Blair _did_ find out, and was scared away. 

This unrequited love thing really was a bitch. It had no benefits whatsoever, and Jim was a man who like to weigh the costs and benefits of a situation, and act accordingly. 

Unfortunately, there really was no use in fighting the fact that he was in love with Blair. Years ago, he'd come to the unhappy conclusion that he couldn't win against his emotions; they were insidious things. But he didn't know what to do; should he, _could_ he keep his feelings a secret for the rest of his life? 

Considering the effect that doing so had had on their friendship in the past few months, he didn't think so. 

It seemed that he was damned either way; he was straining their friendship by trying to do the right thing in keeping his feelings to himself, but the only other option he could see was telling Blair straight out, and that could put an end to their friendship completely. 

Frustrated that he couldn't come to a solution, Jim stood and stretched, conveniently doing so just as Blair got up from his own bench. It was time to leave. 

He began to make his way down the path, and had just rounded a turn when his cell phone rang. Unthinking, he stopped walking to answer it. 

"Hello? Hey, Stevie, I can't really talk right now." Why? Because he was busy stalking his partner, of course. Stevie asked if he was at work. "Yeah, something like that. I'll give you a call tonight, okay?" And, crap, Sandburg had seen him. Why had he stopped? This was a _cell_ phone, dammit. He was such a dumbass sometimes. "Yeah, you too, Stevie. Bye." 

And now here was Blair, asking him what was up, and Jim had no excuse, none at all, for being here. 

"What's up, Jim? Case?" 

"Huh?" Wracking his brain for some valid reason to be here, Jim missed Blair's question. 

"Do we have a new case? Or was there an emergency?" Blair asked again, a line of worry appearing between his brows. 

"Oh. Um, no; no case." He was coming up blank, and dammit, Blair was starting to look suspicious. 

"Okay...so why are you here?" 

"What, I can't just go to the park to enjoy the day?" Stalling--he was stalling, and it wasn't helping, not a damn bit. 

Blair's eyes narrowed. "Come on, Jim, you don't really think I'd fall for that. Did you follow me here?" 

"Sandburg, it's none of your business. As far as I know, it's still a free country, and I have the right to go wherever I please without being interrogated." Maybe getting in Blair's face would distract him from the fact that _Blair_ was the one who should be angry, here. 

Unfortunately, Blair knew him too well for that to work. "Don't even try it, Jim. You were _right there_. You can't pretend that you weren't following me, and I think _I_ have the right to know why!" 

"You weren't supposed to know I was following you. Goddamned cell phone." Why had he even brought it? He wasn't expecting anything important to come up. He glared at the vile piece of junk, which was still in his hand, and tucked it into his pocket. 

Blair was clearly not thrilled with that response. "I wasn't supposed to _know_? What the hell, Ellison?" 

"Look, I'm sorry. It won't happen again." He didn't specify _what_ wouldn't happen again; it was for Jim and only Jim to know that he meant he wouldn't be caught again. 

Blair wasn't buying it, though. "Jim, why did you follow me?" 

Jim sighed. This wasn't going the way he'd planned, not at all. 

He moved them over to the bench that Blair had been sitting at, ignoring Blair's impatient glare. How much should he tell Blair? Even if his current strategy wasn't working, he still didn't know that it was a good idea to tell Blair everything. 

Deciding to stick with the simplest truth for now, Jim said, "I just wanted to know what you were up to, really." 

Blair made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. "Then why didn't you just ask?" 

Jim shrugged; what was he supposed to say? 

"Jim..." Blair sighed. "Why have you been so damn distant ever since I started being your partner? I mean, really. Resorting to following me to find out what I'm doing? If you're sick of me or something, you could just tell me, you know." 

"No! I'm not _sick_ of you, Sandburg." God, did Blair have the wrong idea. Without thinking, he continued his thoughts out loud. "It's more the opposite, Chief." 

Blair looked at him closely. "What do you mean?" 

Jim realized that he'd just made a mistake, if he still wanted to keep this from Blair. "Nothing, Sandburg. I know I've been a jerk. It's just some of my own stuff I'm working through." Could he really tell Blair? Right here and now? 

"Jim, it's pretty obvious that whatever these issues of yours are, they have at least _something_ to do with me. The least you could do is tell me what you meant." And Blair really knew how to get him to talk, didn't he? Jim knew that Blair deserved to know, but a part of him--a huge part--was still telling him that confessing to Blair was just about the worst idea of his life, and that he should abort, abort, abort. 

It wasn't until Blair took one of Jim's fists in two hands that Jim even realized he was making them. 

"Look, man, whatever it is, you _know_ you can talk to me about it. I'm your best friend, that's what I'm here for." 

Yeah, Jim knew Blair was there for him; he had been from the very beginning. Jim loosened his hand in Blair's two, and gave them a brief squeeze before unfolding them and letting them drop. Looking down at his own hand, he said, "I appreciate that, Chief, I really do. But it's not something you want to hear." He shouldn't tell, he should; he shouldn't, he should. 

He could tell that Blair was about to say something, but he seemed to reconsider, and gently gnawed on his lower lip--and how turned on Jim was by just that little thing was enough to make him realize that this really couldn't go on much longer; he couldn't keep this secret, no matter how hard he tried, because one day he would just snap and maul the guy--chewed on that beautiful lower lip before saying slowly, "That may be true, Jim, but don't you think it's sort of important that I hear it anyway? It's bound to come up eventually, and if we keep ignoring it, pretending that there's nothing wrong...we could lose our friendship, Jim. I really don't want that." 

"I don't want that, either, Chief." Shit, shit, _shit_ \--he was going to do it, wasn't he? He was going to tell Blair that he was in love with him; but did that mean that he was about to flush their entire friendship down the toilet? 

God, should he really tell Blair? It seemed like a bad idea on so many levels, but a big part of him just wanted to be rid of this secret he'd been holding for so long. Blair couldn't react* too* badly, could he? 

And what other option was there? He could tell Blair now, get it over with, or he could try to talk his way out of it (or, considering that Blair usually won when it came to a battle of words, asshole his way out of it), then continue to try to keep this damn secret that was doing their friendship no good at all. 

That thought was enough to make his decision for him. "You know what? I'm so fucking done with secrets. Look where the last one got you--you had to give up everything, just to keep my goddamn _secret_." Blair didn't say anything, just looked at him with solemn eyes, waiting. 

But decision made or not, it was hard to find the words to explain this the right way. He took almost a minute to gather his thoughts, grateful that Blair gave him the chance. 

Finally, he began. "I know that I've been acting pretty weird, since you got the badge. At first, I guess it was just that things were so crazy--I didn't really believe that you wanted to be a cop, and I felt massively guilty about you losing your entire career just for me. I mean, I've _never_ done anything that big for you." 

Jim interrupted Blair before he could object. He just wanted this to be over with; half of him couldn't believe he was doing it at all. 

"Just let me get through this, okay? You can say...you can say whatever you want, when I'm done. Just remember that I'm only telling you this because I think that it's just making things worse, hiding it. I tried to do the right thing, and screw me if I should have just kept my mouth shut, but I think I was going about it the wrong way." 

He darted a glance at Blair, who was thankfully keeping quiet, though Jim could tell he was impatient to ask questions. 

Okay. Well. He might as well get straight to the heart of the issue, right? He took a deep breath, and went for it. "I'm in love with you, Blair; I'm in love with you, and more than anything, I don't want it to ruin our friendship." 

Jim couldn't look at Blair, so instead he focused on a freewheeling seagull in the distance. Still, he could practically _feel_ Blair's shock. 

He continued, determined to finally get this out of the way. "But it _has_ been ruining it, lately, because I've been feeling so damn guilty about it. I hate feeling this way about you, knowing that we can only be friends, and I hate not being able to control how I feel. But what I hate the most is that this could make things weird, could make you not want to live with me, hang out with me, be my partner. I don't want this to change things. I _hate_ change." That last bit came out sounding a little plaintive, but it was true. 

Blair laughed, sounding a little lost. "Yeah, Jim, I'd noticed." 

There was a moment of silence, until Blair said, "Shit, Jim." 

Jim grimaced; that wasn't exactly a promising response. "I told you you wouldn't want to hear it." 

There was another pause, and Jim didn't dare to look over at Blair, afraid of what he might see on that expressive face. After what seemed like an eternity, Blair spoke. "So let me get this straight. You love me, you're _in_ love with me, and you show it by pushing me away and giving me the cold shoulder for months? Jesus, Jim, half the time I thought you couldn't _stand_ me!" 

Jim flinched inwardly. Put that way, it really made him seem like a dick. Which he supposed he was. "I didn't want you to figure it out. I just wanted to keep our friendship the way it was." He'd tried so hard to ignore the part of him that craved an impossible change. 

"What about now, Jim? You still want to keep things they way they are?" Jim couldn't quite identify the emotion behind Blair's words, but he did notice that Blair had an odd expression on his face. 

"I..." He didn't want to say that losing Blair was just about the worst thing that could happen to him; considering the context, that didn't seem like a good idea. "If you can handle it, if you're not too freaked out or anything, then, yeah, Chief. I'd like it if things didn't change. Except, you know, the part where I'm an asshole and we never hang out anymore." 

"I just don't understand why you felt it necessary to push me away so much. I mean, it hurt, man. We're supposed to be friends." Yeah, Jim was definitely a dick. Why was he so bad at this friendship thing? 

He gave the only answer he had. "I guess I just thought it was better than clinging too much and scaring you away." 

Next to him, Blair sighed. "Jim, you realize that you're really screwed up, right?" 

Jim smiled bitterly. "Yeah, Sandburg, I was aware." 

Lost for a moment in angry thoughts of just _how_ screwed up he was, Jim wasn't at all prepared for what Blair said next. "It's a good thing I love you anyway, then, isn't it?" 

"What?" he asked stupidly. 

Blair put his hand on Jim's shoulder and said warmly, "I love you, Jim." 

Jim stared at him blankly for a moment, then said, "Blair, you know you don't have to say that just for my benefit, right?" 

Blair smiled. "I know." 

"And you're not screwing with me? Because if you are--" That would be more than cruel. 

Raising his hands and putting them out in front of him in a no-not-me gesture, Blair hastened to reassure Jim. "No, definitely not screwing with you, man. But if you _wanted_ \--" 

Ignoring Blair's attempt at innuendo, Jim asked a little tentatively, "Seriously, Blair? You love me?" It seemed like too much to hope for. 

"Really, madly, truly, till-death-do-we-part, and all that jazz." 

It wasn't Blair's words that convinced Jim, but rather the sincerity in his eyes. Warmth bloomed in his chest, and he felt himself begin to grin stupidly. "I'd kiss you right now, but we're kinda in a public place." 

Blair grinned back, and Jim almost decided that he didn't care about the people nearby. "All the more reason to go home, huh?" 

Jim couldn't agree more. 

* * *

The walk home seemed infinite to Blair. Jim was walking closer than he ever had before, occasionally bumping elbows with Blair, and once or twice `accidentally' brushing his ass. Jim's wicked grin turned Blair on almost as much as the hand on his ass did. 

But they finally did make it back to the loft, and as soon as the door was closed, Jim had him pressed up against it. There was a brief pause--"Are you _sure_?"--and then Jim was kissing him, and he was giving back as good as he got. He'd wanted this forever, he wasn't about to be _meek_. 

And eventually, it was just too much; they had to get to a bed or just finish it right here. By mutual unspoken agreement, they headed for Jim's room. 

At the base of the stairs, Jim paused. Blair turned to him, half-wondering if Jim was having second thoughts. "You coming?" 

"Yeah, just gimme a minute, I'll be right up." Jim promised before pulling Blair close once more. This kiss was even deeper and dirtier than their previous ones, and Blair groaned as Jim pulled away. If just making out with Jim could do this to him, he was almost afraid to see what was to come. Almost. 

Blair made his way up the stairs and onto Jim's bed, where he lay down. He was actually sort of glad, now that he thought about it, that Jim had given him a moment to reflect. This was all pretty overwhelming. Just a few hours ago, he'd thought that his friendship with Jim was broken, and had despaired of how to make it better. 

Now, he was overflowing--with love, joy, and a giddy relief that left him light-headed and daring. Jim loved him--he loved him, and almost as amazing, Jim wasn't sick of him; didn't want him to leave. The last few months of tension and strangeness between the two of them hadn't been Blair's fault, just a screwed-up defense mechanism of Jim's. 

And now, sitting here waiting for Jim, he felt like he was on the edge of something big, and if he fell, it would be both the most frightening and the most exhilarating thing that had ever happened to him. He was about to start a brand new relationship with his best friend of four years, something that he'd wanted for what seemed like forever; something he'd _known_ would never happen. 

Except it _had_ happened, was about to happen, and it seemed that there were suddenly a lot more things to worry about. Like, what if he and Jim weren't compatible in bed? It happened, sometimes; the sparks just weren't there. Considering the fact that the first touch of Jim's lips upon his had made his knees feel like jelly, he sort of doubted it, but still, it could happen. 

And that was just in the here and now--what about their future? To what extent would they have to keep their relationship hidden, in and out of the PD? When and if they came out, who would they be able to trust? 

And, wow, speaking of coming out--Naomi didn't even know that he was bi. By the time he'd realized--in his early twenties--he'd become accustomed to keeping certain things from her. That was a part of why they had such a close relationship; Blair tried his best to keep the more troubling things from his mom. It wasn't that he really thought she would object, but he knew for a fact that she wanted grandchildren, and he'd never really expected to end up with a man for the rest of his life. Oops. 

Grandchildren! Oh, man. What if Jim wanted kids? He'd never talked about wanting kids with Carolyn--their marriage had been pretty short, and from what Blair had heard of it, rocky from almost the get-go. Could Blair even see himself as a father? With their job, would they be able to adopt? Would it be fair to the kids, given that they were both in danger so often? And what was taking Jim so long?? 

Finally, Jim came up the stairs, carrying something in his hands, and Blair suddenly felt like he was under a spotlight. Jim was looking at him in a way that made his heart race and his cock spring to attention, and he immediately forgot all about his worries. 

He started to speak, then had to clear his throat. God, he hadn't been this turned on in a very long time. "Hey there." 

Jim smiled and said, "Hey"--and just that one word was, like, _ten_ times sexier than Blair had ever believed possible--and walked over to the edge of the bed. Blair sat up, and finally noticed what Jim was holding: condoms and lube. 

"Oh, wow." he mumured, not knowing what else to say. 

Jim laughed lightly and shrugged. "Just in case, you know." 

Blair smiled. Just in case; he could deal with that. "Where did you get those? I didn't know you had anything like that downstairs." 

Jim's grin turned wicked. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Chief." 

"Oh yeah? Well then why don't you c'mere and show me, Jim?" Blair challenged gleefully, leaning back and opening his arms. 

Jim filled them, slowly pushing Blair down to the bed as he tossed the condoms and lube to the corner of the bed. Blair shivered as Jim started to nibble gently at his neck. He reached down to the bottom of Jim's shirt and tugged, trying to get as much of Jim naked as immediately possible. 

Jim cooperated after a moment, pulling his tee off, and then began to undo Blair's buttons, one by one, fingers drifting and teasing lightly as he moved to the next. At the same time, his mouth was still doing amazing things at the base of Blair's neck, and by the time Jim reached the last button, Blair was panting and shaking and certain that this was going to be like nothing he'd ever experienced. 

Jim encouraged Blair to sit up, and when he did so, slid his shirt off slowly. Blair scooted back a bit, and took Jim's face into his hands, pulling him close for a kiss. Jim's hands slid up and down Blair's back deliciously. 

Without breaking off the kiss, Blair moved his hands, trailing them down Jim's chest. He delighted in the strangled gasp that Jim made as his hands paused at Jim's nipples, but he didn't linger for long; he had a goal, after all. Soon, he was well on his way to reaching that goal--his hands were unfastening the button on Jim's slacks, and sliding the zipper down. Jim moaned encouragingly into his mouth, and with a little cooperation, Blair shortly had Jim as he wanted him--stark naked and trembling. 

God, Jim's cock...it was just right. Beautiful, without being intimidating; just the right weight in Blair's hand, just the right flavor in his mouth. It was all Blair had ever imagined, just more, so much _more_ , because this was real and this was _Jim_. He now knew what Jim looked like when he was aroused, knew what his pre-come tasted like, knew that licking up and down the shaft of Jim's cock made him shiver, but that a little pressure on his perineum at the same time as a swipe of Blair's tongue across the slit on the tip of his cock made Jim positively _quake_. He finally knew what it was like to hear Jim moan his name, and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. He felt like a god. 

But just before he got to the best part, just before he made Jim come--hopefully screaming Blair's name--Jim pulled him away, saying something that he didn't catch. 

He let his head clear for a moment--Jim wasn't the only one who was close to the edge--and asked, "What did you say?" 

Jim drew in a ragged breath and tugged Blair up to his lips. They shared a brief but steamy kiss, and he moved over to Blair's ear, nibbling on it. After a sharp tug on an earring that sent a jolt through Blair's body, Jim breathed, "I want you to fuck me." 

God, the mix of lust and desire and command in Jim's voice--it tookBlair all he had not to come right then and there. 

He lifted his head, and looked down into Jim's eyes, which were half-lidded and full of desire. There was a small, sexy smile on Jim's lips that told Blair that Jim knew _exactly_ what his words had done to Blair. 

"Are you sure?" Blair hated to ask, because Jim changing his mind might just be the end of him, but it was only right. 

Grabbing Blair's ass and pulling his hips closer to Blair's, grinding their groins together in a way that made Blair want his pants off _right now_ , Jim said, "More than sure, Chief. I need you." 

Blair swallowed. "God." He took Jim's mouth in a rough kiss, then got off the bed for a second, stripping faster than he ever had before. Glancing over his shoulder, he all but ordered Jim to turn over. 

Jim complied immediately, pulling a pillow from the top of the bed and putting it underneath his hips. Blair joined him on the bed after a moment, taking a condom from the brand-new box on the corner of the bed and putting it by his side, right next to the lube. 

He took a minute to appreciate the view before him, and to calm himself. It felt like this had all happened in a flash--like at any moment, it could all be over, and he'd be waking up alone in his bed. It was almost beyond his comprehension that this was actually happening, after nearly four years of waiting and wanting. He was right here--right now--kneeling with his legs to the sides of Jim's, staring down at Jim's glorious body that was spread out in front of him, his for the taking. 

"You have no idea...god, Jim, I want you." Blair's hand shook almost as much as his voice as he traced the curve of Jim's back. 

"You have me, Blair. I'm all yours." 

Blair took a deep breath, and gently squeezed the ass cheek that was currently under his hand. He drew small invisible circles on Jim's skin with his thumb, then leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on each side of Jim's ass. 

"I love you," he breathed, then began. 

Stretching Jim, getting him ready for what they were about to do, was just about the most erotic thing Blair had ever done in his life. The way Jim moaned and shook beneath him when he hit just the right spot; how Jim hissed and groaned as Blair added another finger. 

Finally, he judged Jim to be ready, and he knew Jim agreed--for the past minute or so, he'd been practically growling at Blair, telling him to "Fuck me already, Sandburg, for chrissakes... _Jesus_!" 

Blair slowly slid his fingers out, ignoring Jim's moan of disappointment. Rolling the condom on, he hissed at the sensation, and quickly lubed himself up. 

He pressed in slowly at first, needing to be positive that he wasn't going to hurt Jim, and paused when he was all the way in. God, the heat, the pressure...he needed to move, _now_. Before he did, though, he asked, "Okay?" in a voice so breathless that if Jim weren't a sentinel, he might not have been able to hear it. 

When Jim nodded, apparently more out of voice than Blair, he pulled back, then thrust in slowly. His hands, clasped firmly on Jim's hips, gripped so hard that he fleetingly thought of bruises. 

He began to pick up speed, and with the increase in pace came sounds from Jim that he'd dreamt of many a night--moans, groans, whimpers; murmurs of "Yeah, Chief, yeah, _just_ like that"; his name, shouted as he hit Jim's prostate; soft sighs that made him love Jim all the more. 

Soon, it got to be almost more than he could take, and he reached around Jim, pulling out the pillow--which, he noticed with the corner of his brain that was still coherent, was covered in Jim's pre-come--and gripped Jim's cock in his hand. He set up a rhythm with his hips and his hand that quickly brought Jim to the edge and over with a muffled yell, as Jim screamed into the blanket beneath him. 

Blair followed, just two or three thrusts later, groaning Jim's name and collapsing on top of him, delicious shocks running throughout his entire body. 

* * *

Blair came to a short while later to find himself spooned around and half on top of Jim, who was out like a light. He stretched his arm out into the air, wiggling his fingers, and luxuriated in the lingering tingles that zipped through him. With a sigh, he pulled out of Jim and took the condom off, tying it up and tossing it in the trash near Jim's bedside table. 

Before he snuggled around Jim once again, he grabbed a shirt--it just so happened to be Jim's, but under the circumstances, he didn't think Jim would mind--and cursorily cleaned them both up, wiping futilely at the wet spot Jim had made on the bedspread. 

He crumbled the dirty garment up in a ball, tossed it at the end of the bed, and pulled an extra blanket--also from the bottom of the bed--over Jim and himself as he settled in. 

This part, he mused, laying with his arms around Jim, steeping in the afterglow of what had to have been the best sex of his life, was really just as good as the sex itself. Jim in his arms, unmoving except for his deep, even breaths--it was more satisfying, more thrilling, more soul-soothing than he could have ever imagined, even in his wildest dreams. 

No matter what the future brought, it was worth it just for this, and he'd do whatever it took to make sure that this was how he spent the rest of his days--here, with Jim, in their home. 

He couldn't ask for more. 

* * *

End 

Returning to Harmony by krossero: krossero@yahoo.com  
Author and story notes above.

Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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